Time Flies
Used to be
she’d tell him what
to get at the grocery store
and he always brought it back.
Now she makes a list.
Used to be
she knew by noon what
she’d make for dinner.
Everything from scratch.
Now she’s in the pantry
rummaging at 6.
Used to be
the two of them would cheer
the sunrise on the patio
with coffee imported
from Antigua or Barbados.
Now they sleep in.
Have instant later.
Used to be
they’d sit on the porch
and watch the sun go down
with oohs and aahs
and a glass of sherry.
Now they doze in rockers
until it’s almost 10.
A Certain Look
Some things you can’t undo.
A remark, perhaps, you can retract
or try to with an explanation.
But a certain look can
burn forever in the mind
of its observer, a missile you
never knew you launched.
Maya Angelou was right.
Some folks can’t recall
years later what you said
but they remember instantly
how you made them feel.
Stranger Comes to Town
Beautiful fall day
in a potter’s field
outside a small town.
A funeral is underway
but that doesn’t stop
the leaves russet and gold
a few still green
falling among the stones
without a name.
The minister reads a verse
over the grave of a man
found by deer hunters.
No idea who he is or
where he came from,
a body dumped.
Four people from
the clapboard church
with the wayward steeple
over the hill gather 'round
heads bowed, hands clasped.
An old worker with a shovel
stands like a soldier
near the shed and
waits for everyone to leave
so he can finish up.
It’s almost lunch time.
One by one cars pull away
and now it’s just us, the dirt
and a gold leaf falling on me.
———————————————————
Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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